My Asteroid List

So, we all almost died last night as a giant asteroid passed closer to us than the moon. There was no ragtag team of misfit drillers turned astronauts on a mission to save us, no nuclear bomb contingency plan that would protect the world. It would either hit us or it wouldn’t.

In the moments leading up to potential impact, I wrote my asteroid list. This is not a bucket list. A bucket list is a list of things that you want to do before you die, but it’s very cognizant of the fact that the world will continue and people you know and respect will still be around after you’re gone. An asteroid list is the list of things to do when the world is going to end, and there won’t be anybody left alive to judge you.

This is my asteroid list:

Tell every little kid I see that there’s no such thing as Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, and the Easter Bunny.

Have a threesome with a clone of myself and a girl. Or just another clone of myself.

Go grocery shopping naked.

Hold Kirk Cameron hostage at gunpoint while I explain to him exactly where bananas come from and how they’re not naturally made like that. Then shoot him.

Take over a television station and force them to run a Veronica Mars marathon until the world ends.

See if it’s dressing like a woman that makes drag queens so damn happy about everything.

Hook up with a cute relative from my extended family.

Spend an entire day ending every sentence in every conversation with every person with “suck my nuts.”

Duct tape a cat upside down to the back of a dog and create the world’s first reversible pet. Sell it to the guy who makes the RonCo Rotisserie Oven. Take the money, fly to Vegas, get fourteen hookers and an eight ball, and then bet everything else in one giant bet at the roulette table.

Re-enact my favorite Deep Thought from Jack Handey: “I think a good gift for the President would be a chocolate revolver. and since he is so busy, you’d probably have to run up to him real quick and give it to him.”

Have sex with a Mormon, preferably one who is female.

Put a humidifier and a de-humidifier in the same room and finally figure out which one would win.

Hold Dane Cook hostage at gunpoint while I explain to him exactly why his comedy is not funny and why his success is what’s wrong with the world today. Then shoot him.

Hey Adam, I’ve just detected your site and feel the strong need to comment on every post from now on. The simple fact is that I think we’re pretty similar, that could be a misconception of course, but that doesn’t bother me. Consider yourself forewarned! By the way do you block people if they comment too much? But then again what is too much, right? Showing some interest in other people’s work can’t be really bad.
As far as I’m concerned, yes, I am a bit disappointed that the asteroid missed us. But life goes on obviously for the reason: We got not hit by that stupid thing.
Do you read your comments anyway? I bet you just stopped doing so when I came along. If not, you gotta prove it!

Considering I didn’t know about the asteroid until it had already zipped past, it looks like I have two choices to stay on top of our impending doom. I can either start paying attention to the news, or watch for signs you’re acting on your asteroid list. Just tell me you’ll be live blogging that shit.

@Avitable, Awww, thanks it’s so nice you call it interest instead of weirdness or stalking. I really feel appreciated! I’m looking forward to get more wisdom; I think I’m on the right place for that *relieved sigh*